


Subject of Your Dreams

by liwellen



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liwellen/pseuds/liwellen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all, he knew it was a different world in Lord Ronan Lynch’s bedchamber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss Me on the Mouth

Adam Parrish was not one to believe in omens, but as his day drew close to an end, he thought perhaps it would have been wiser if he did. Then, he would have taken it as a sign that his day was bound to be nothing but atrocious when he woke only to see sunlight. It would not have troubled him were he in his own bed, but unfortunately, it made a world of difference in the bedchamber of Lord Ronan Lynch.

Instinctively, Adam swore and picked up his breeches from the floor, jostling Ronan in his hurry. The other boy cracked his eyes open lazily, but blinked awake quickly when he saw the look on Adam’s face. He too swore when the situation dawned on him.

“I need to leave,” Adam told him unnecessarily.

Before Ronan could say anything, the sound of floorboards creaking made their blood freeze.

Ronan was quick to call out in a steady voice, “Not now.”

The maid on the other side of the door hesitated before answering shakily, “My lord?”

“I said not now,” there was an edge to Ronan’s words now, making his meaning clear.

There was a brief silence before the floorboards creaked again, this time along with receding footsteps.

Adam’s heart still pounded when he recovered enough to search for his shirt. He shook his head as he said, “I need to go before anyone sees me.”

Ronan moved to lean on his side, and as Adam pulled on his shirt, he caught sight of the sheets that now slung low across the boy’s hips. He buried the temptation to crawl back into bed and shove everything out of the way.  

“Go through the gardens,” Ronan told, then, after a moment of contemplation, he added, “I trust my household, Adam. They won’t tell.”

Adam did not answer, but there was no need for him to. They both knew how trust came to him with much difficulty. When he was finally dressed and ready to leave, he glanced at Ronan who caught his eye. It should not have come as a surprise- they were always pulled to each other like moths drawn to the light.

A smile tugged at Ronan’s lips as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to give your blushing mistress a kiss?”

Against himself, Adam smiled back. He propped one knee on the bed to bring himself closer to Ronan. Brushing his thumb across Ronan’s lower lip, Adam whispered, “You’re a menace.”

Ronan nipped at his finger, “Would you have it any other way?”

They both knew the answer was no, with finality to it.

When Adam leaned down to kiss Ronan, he half expected the other boy to push his tongue between his teeth immediately, but there was a kind of mellowness to Ronan in the morning. The kiss stayed lingering and sweet, and just for a moment, Adam could forget that he was merely a servant of the king’s, and he could let himself indulge in the forbidden notion of waking up every morning just like this for the rest of his life.

When they broke apart, reality punched its way back to him, but was made less brutal by the sight of Ronan’s swollen mouth. Adam watched the words weave their way from between those lips, “Go be a magician.”

In that second, Adam Parrish felt as if he could fight storms and raise the earth, but that never lasted long. After all, he knew it was a different world in Lord Ronan Lynch’s bedchamber.

If that near miss was not enough of a sign, perhaps Adam’s heavy heart was- or rather, the way he could barely keep his mind on task. Cabeswater evaded him the whole morning, and in his miserable rage, he ruined two healing concoctions, earning a disapproving look from Sir Malory. The old man seemed to regret ever taking him under his wing- as if he had any choice in the matter in the first place. As if Adam was not brought to the castle by the scruff of his neck years ago, young and bleeding. As if he was not put on his bruised knees and made to swear fealty to the royal name of Gansey.   

Then, there was Lady Gwenllian of the House of Glendower.

The king’s household was well-informed about the honorable guest before the carriages from Henrietta’s neighboring lands arrived with fanfare, and there was an order to treat her with the upmost respect, and this in turn ignited much confusion as such a thing came naturally to the household as with every guest. However, Lady Gwenllian’s arrival was illuminating.

It took much restraint for the servants not to whisper or giggle about Lady Gwenllian’s spontaneous songs, wild dances, and loud cackles. Adam, who did not deal with gossip and thought of Lady Gwenllian as nothing more than a mere curiosity, was unbothered by her presence until that very day.

Adam was on his way to the forest, carrying two stones in his pocket along with his hope of reaching Cabeswater, when Lady Gwenllian appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of another one of her strange dances, she tripped over him, but he caught her before she fell. Once she was steady on her feet, she ripped her arm out from his grasp.

Her face twisted with darkness. “Don’t touch me, mongrel,” she sneered.

The words sliced into Adam’s skin, and it took everything in him to fight his disdain for the woman before him. “Forgive me, my lady,” he made himself answer tonelessly and bowed. With his head down, he listened to her huff and skip away. The cold reminder of his lowly position made his gut clench.

_One day_ , he thought, as though that one day would surely come.

One day.

 

* * *

 

Although it meant risking an encounter with his brother, Ronan Lynch was still a frequent visitor of the house of God. No one knew better than he did that ignoring Declan Lynch took not so much skill as resolve, and Ronan had it down to a fine art at this point.

He had taken to sitting in one of the pews at the back rather than the front with the rest of his family- well, part of his family anyway. Of course, he missed spending time with Matthew, but there would be time for amends later. 

However, Ronan had felt off-kilter all morning. Perhaps it was simply because Adam had woken late, which he never did before, or perhaps it was the familiar selfishness that ignited within him like an all-consuming fire when they kissed. Whatever it was made Ronan itch for a drink after the long sermon. It was his very misfortune to be a step too slow in leaving the church, landing him straight into Declan’s clutches.

“You were seen,” his brother hissed.

If Ronan was not so thrown by the words, he would not have allowed himself to be dragged away from prying eyes. When he finally recovered enough, he shoved Declan away, face wrought in disgust, “What in God’s name are you on about?”

Declan’s fury was plain to see, “My man saw that servant Parrish leave your quarters this morning. Do you dare deny it?”

Ronan’s anger could rival his, “You planted spies in my household?” Adam was right after all. Of course he was.

“That household is as much mine as it is yours,” Declan shot back, “And it does well to remind them of that. Their unwavering loyalty to you is revolting.”

So it wasn’t his people. It took everything in Ronan to mask his relief, “I am not having this conversation with you.”

Before Ronan could turn to leave, Declan whispered furiously, “You would damn well stay if you want Parrish to get on the King’s Council.”

Those two words were enough to root Ronan in his spot. Two words that pointed to the kingdom’s elite, made up of the king’s most trusted knights and scholars- the same two words that looked like a key to Adam, but a chain to Ronan.

Declan seemed to realize that he had caught Ronan’s attention now, “Not that he stands much of a chance in the first place. Magic has no place in the Council, especially not a tree-hugger like him.”

With his hands clenched into fists, Ronan felt an actual physical ache from his restraint. Declan knew well enough about the magic coursing through his veins, and those words were meant to cut personally. Ronan’s glare turned vicious, “Are you threatening me?”

Declan pulled back, visibly reining in his anger, “Call it whatever you like. I told you to be careful. I _told_ you. We could lose everything just because of you!”

“You mean _you_ would lose everything,” Ronan shot back.

“Yes, Ronan,” Declan stared at his brother, “I suppose that’s just it. You don’t care about any of this, but when everything is gone, what will happen to Matthew? You know he would never make it on his own. Lord knows he is too kind for this world. What then, Ronan? What will you do?”

Ronan had no answer, and so he turned to his weapons, “My life is none of your business.”

“I do not care what happens behind your door as long as it stays closed,” Declan answered sharply, “But it’s a bit late for that, is it not? Soon, people will start to talk.”

Stonily, Ronan asked, “What do you want?”

His brother straightened up and told, “You are nine and ten. I think it is time for marriage to be a proper consideration.”

Ronan barked out a laugh, “Are you out of your mind?”

“This is not a game, Ronan,” Declan looked tired now. “I ask you to think about our family. Think about Matthew, and if you care about the servant, think about the King’s Council.”

With everything laid out that way, it was clear that there was no escape or even a choice in the first place. Ronan exhaled sharply, “You say this is not a game, but it damn well looks like you have won.”

Declan took a step back and spread out his arms, “And look what a fortune I have gained.”

As the two brothers went their own separate ways, looking from above, they were nothing but the same dark, miserable spot, lost among thousands of others.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are looking for historical accuracies, this fic is not the place to find them. 
> 
> This is the toughest thing I have ever written, and it looks like it's going to be much longer than I thought.
> 
> All titles are from Troye Sivan's Bite.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: yourladysansa.tumblr.com


	2. Set Me Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam shook his head, “I do not need you to protect me.”
> 
> Ronan did not hesitate, “And I do not wish to lose you.”

As with every child that was not from the line of nobility, the birth of Adam Parrish was unremarkable.

For the longest time, the common folk had a belief that a summer child was high-spirited and carefree, but Adam never had a chance to be either of those things. Since before he could remember, Adam was stoking fires for his father who was a blacksmith when he was not too busy being drunk, or he would be cleaning kitchens and mending nets for fishermen bound to return to the sea.

If there was anything Adam knew better than most, it was the pain of hard work and the taste of blood in his mouth after one of his father’s tantrums. One thing for certain was that the life Adam was born into was never meant to cross with the royal family, but things never did quite work the way they were supposed to.

When Adam stumbled across a young figure struggling with a horse on his way home one evening, he did not think much when he stopped to help. It took nothing more than a half-eaten apple in his bag, and even though his empty stomach clenched when he parted with it, he did it anyway. He never did discover the fact that the young man was Prince Gansey until much later. To this, some might call it luck, and perhaps Adam would call it the same thing if he was a believer in such.

The two became fast friends who stumbled into each other occasionally. The persistent questioning about the bruises on Adam’s skin was tempered by how he could momentarily lose himself in the rich world of this stranger who was apparently new to the king’s army- Adam would later find out that Gansey was simply doing his mandatory training in order to fulfill his customary duty as a prince. Back in those days, the way Gansey called him ‘Parrish’ made it sound like a curious word, and Adam never bothered asking for a name in return when he had his rough hands to serve as a constant reminder of his place in the world. Still, he found solace in his time with Gansey, but of course, good things had a longer way to fall.

The night with too many broken bottles and angry hands would forever be burnt into Adam’s memory. In the aftermath, his lips were stained with blood, and it was hard for him to breathe. When day broke, he could not get out of bed without fighting the urge to scream.

That was when the guards came knocking on their door, and what happened next came in a series of shouts and a flurry of limbs.

“Ye have nuh right to arrest me,” his father yelled.

Adam stood by helplessly as he watched a soldier step in, twisting his father’s arm without mercy, “Your unpaid dues say the contrary. By your landlord’s words, you and your family have overstayed your welcome.” The cold intonation acted as law and judgment.

Adam and his parents were tugged out of their small home. In his weakness, he stumbled onto his knees, cutting his skin on the hard ground. Sensing the other villagers at the scene, he willed himself not to cry. He would leave with his pride if nothing else.

“Wait,” a voice suddenly called out, bringing a halt to the commotion. Adam took in the familiar figure and his heart filled with shame. Although all eyes were shifted to him, the young man seemed unperturbed, “Surely there must be another way.”

The soldier still holding onto Adam’s father bowed his head and said, “The law is the law, your royal highness.”

The address landed like a stone on Adam’s heart. In the years to come, Gansey would admit that he wished Adam had found out some other way, but reality was hardly ever kind.

When it became obvious that the prince had nothing else to say, Adam was yanked to his feet and jostled forward along with his parents again. Then, his mother shouted, “Wait, wait!” Her eyes seemed wild in her dishevelment, and Adam was taken aback by the crack in her quiet demeanor. He watched her swallow hard, “My son- my son knows how to read and write. He has magic, sir.”

Whether it was an act of kindness in order to save him from the children’s home, or an act of contempt in order to be rid of him- Adam never found out.

Gansey immediately looked to him, “Is that true, Parrish?”

Adam made his body unclench and nodded, but he quickly remembered who stood before him, so he forced himself to answer, “Yes, your royal highness.”

There was something kingly in the way Gansey stood straight and ordered, “Gentlemen, release him.”

The guard who had a bruising grip on Adam’s arm started to protest, “But-”

“That is no way to treat my companion. I said to release him,” Gansey’s voice was firm as steel.

At that, Adam felt himself being unhanded, but he could not move or speak. His body was not his.

“It shall be official when we return to the kingdom,” Gansey continued, “But no harm is to come to him.” Adam watched the other boy step closer to him, and he took in the figure in a whole new light, unsure of what to feel. In a voice low enough just for them to hear, Gansey asked, “Is that alright?”

The need to survive pushed Adam to nod in agreement. There was nothing Gansey could do for his parents, and that went unsaid.

Keeping to his word, Gansey brought Adam to the castle, where Adam walked around the pristine premises in his rags and was told he would be studying under Sir Malory in the art of healing. His kind of magic was practically worthless in a society that only treasured prophecies, fate and fortune- but that too went unsaid.

When Adam was finally called to kneel before the king and Gansey - properly introduced as the prince this time - and to repeat an oath that seared into his very existence, he knew for certain that the only thing he felt was _branded_.

 

* * *

 

It was late when Adam returned to the castle, weary to his bone. As soon as he arrived, he was called to the healing chamber by a vexed-looking maid who spoke little. Though he strongly desired to sleep, Adam pushed aside his exhaustion and headed to where he was needed. There was only one candle lit in the room, and that was enough for him to deduce who his visitor was.

“I have not seen you in four days,” Ronan said from where he was seated at a tiny desk.

Adam picked up an ointment and some clean sheets from the corner of the room. Then, he headed towards the other boy, “I was called to the South. The ley line has been unusual.” He added, “Now, show me.”

Ronan huffed but lifted his hand. The fingers were covered in blood and there were pieces of glass caught in the skin. At Adam’s sigh, he shrugged, “I wanted to see you.”

It was a reminder of how they met the first time, just after Adam started studying under Sir Malory. Back then, Ronan was a long-time guest of Gansey’s since he refused to live under the same roof as Declan after their father had died and their mother had succumbed to illness.

Even when they were young, Ronan was a frequent visitor of the healing chamber due to the fights he started, along with his unfortunate affinity to alcohol. Sir Malory had long given up, choosing to send the angry youth to his new apprentice instead. As time passed, Ronan’s visits increased with bloody scrapes and feeble excuses alike, up until he finally kissed Adam one quiet night. Such days lasted until Ronan was granted his own lands, but whenever he was a guest at the castle, his presence at the healing chamber was a near certainty. No one bothered to question it.

As Adam began cleaning the wound, Ronan nodded at the glass with a single blue flower in it, placed on the side of the table- a gift pulled from a dream, “You kept it all this time.”

Although Adam felt his face burn, he answered softly, “I did.”

Ronan looked pleased. Then, he commented, “You’re tired.”

“Of course I am,” Adam said, “I just came back from the South.”

Ronan furrowed his eyebrows, “Did you mend the ley line?”

Those words ignited a familiar sense of frustration in Adam, “For now. Something is wrong, but I do not know what it is.”

The other boy made a contemplative noise, “Do you suppose it is Greenmantle?”

Adam stilled. The room seemed colder at the mere mention of the sly man who coveted magic as much as he coveted the crown. Adam peered at the doorway, and when he was sure they were alone, he answered softly, “Perhaps. I heard Sir Greenmantle has made the acquaintance of Sir Barrington Whelk.”

“And that troubles you,” Ronan said, tone matter-of-fact, “Have you told Gansey about that?”

Adam did not bother looking up from his task, “Gansey knows what I think. No one believes there will ever be war in Henrietta, and no one will ever take a servant’s word for it.”

In a quick movement, Ronan held Adam’s hands in his, “Do _not_ say that.”

Adam stared. Ronan had never reacted this way when it came to the mention of his lowly position. Thus, he could not help but exclaim, “What has gotten into you?”

Without loosening his grip, Ronan asked, “Adam, is the King’s Council so important to you?”

The sudden mention of the Council was alarming, but Adam was quick to steel his expression, “I do not question what you wish to do with your life.”

“I know that,” Ronan answered angrily.

As Adam took in the conflicted look that crossed the other boy’s face, his heart softened, “You know what it means to me,” he said. “I know magicians are almost never on the Council, but I have been studying on prophecies. I am close to being able to tell them myself. You know this, Ronan.”

Their eyes remained on each other as Ronan stayed quiet. Adam was unsettled by how the conversation did not seem to add up quite the right way, and he was about to ask when Ronan finally spoke, “Declan said I should marry.” 

Adam froze. Then, he removed his hands from Ronan’s grasp, “Do you wish to?”

Ronan scowled, “This has nothing to do with what I wish. We have been careless, Adam. Soon, people will talk.”

“And you think your marriage will silence them,” Adam pointed out, “Since when do you care about the words of others?”

“I care because it would hurt _you_ ,” Ronan answered back furiously.

Adam shook his head, “I do not need you to protect me.”

Ronan did not hesitate, “And I do not wish to lose you.”

Things became rather clear then. “You have already made up your mind,” Adam voiced evenly.

“It is my only move,” Ronan answered with raw honesty.

There was an ache in Adam’s chest as he said, “And _I_ will lose you.” The words left a scar in his mouth.

“Never,” Ronan said vehemently, reaching for Adam’s hand again.

The other boy simply let himself be held, “You cannot promise me that.”

The words pushed Ronan to kiss Adam again and again in the weak candle light- a quiet whisper lost between each press of their lips.

_I swear, I swear, I swear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be off to another part of the earth tomorrow, but I promise I will get this done soon. I don't like loose ends either.


	3. Please Don't Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a pained voice, Ronan told, “They are not all that way.”
> 
> “I know,” Adam answered softly, “But God will always seem cruel to me.”

Adam Parrish was never much of a believer.

At times, he took comfort in this. Life seemed simpler without trying to pin down God’s plan- a hit was a hit, and a punch was a punch; blood was blood, and pain was pain. The idea of divinity tangled things instead of unravelling them. To Adam, life was made up of actions and consequences. Every man was his own person, and so, Adam Parrish could never truly belong to anyone else.

His lack of belief confused Ronan even before they started sharing kisses in hidden corners and stolen nights. Of course, it was only natural as Ronan’s faith birthed young and remained unwavering even in his darkest hours, but Adam himself never had much of a reason to place his trust in God.

One day, when Ronan had voiced his bewilderment once again, Adam finally found it in himself to dig around the sharp corners of his childhood in effort to provide an adequate explanation.

“When I was young, my father would disappear for days on end. My mother would try to find work but she was weak and everyone knew who my father was. Our name was no different from a curse,” Adam laughed, trying to mask the pain in his chest. He dared not look at Ronan. “We never had any food, and the hunger grew worse day after day. Winter was brutal that year. I remember walking down the street one day, right past the baker’s shop and I had to stop. He was making winter cakes, I could guess even without looking. He had his back turned, and I knew it was wrong when I took some bread, but I chose to take the smallest loaf as though that would make a difference.”

When he did not continue, Ronan asked, voice stiff, “What happened?”

Adam looked at the other boy then, eyes devoid of emotion, “His son caught me. He was going to be a clergyman, everyone knew that, even I did. I remember every bit of that moment. He held onto my arm and yelled. It seemed as though the entire world was there to watch, but no one stopped him when he lifted his hand. I remember what he said better than anything else.” Adam shifted his gaze to his own hands as if they no longer belonged to him, “The moment before he struck me across the face, he told me with his fist raised, ‘This is the hand of God.’”

Ronan looked furious, but Adam did not want his pity. He shook his head and said, “Nothing will change what already happened.”

In a pained voice, Ronan told, “They are not all that way.”

“I know,” Adam answered softly, “But God will always seem cruel to me.”

 

* * *

 

Declan’s patience was wearing thin, Ronan was certain of it. He would be lying if he said that he did not derive some pleasure from it, and he was many things but never a liar.

After word got out that Lord Ronan Lynch was in search of a bride, his daily routine was shaped around disappointing every eligible maiden in Henrietta. Of course, this did not bother him. He was certain that he would be a disappointment to every lady whether he was a wedded man or not.

On a warm afternoon, the two brothers were off to yet another one of Declan’s set up when the elder finally snapped, “Do not waste my time if you are not serious about this.”

“I _am_ serious about this,” Ronan replied, as if he was not slowing their pace with each sluggish movement.

“Then act like it,” Declan bit out, “You do not have the whole world falling at your feet.”

Yet, he had the whole world falling at his fortune.

Ronan did not answer apart from a scowl which he kept on even as he was introduced to Lady Orla who smiled amiably at his demeanor. Ronan knew there were expectant gazes on him, but he could not find anything to say even if he tried.

As if she knew that to be the case, Lady Orla stood and asked, “Lord Lynch, would you like to accompany me for a walk around the gardens? The hydrangeas are quite a sight this time of the year.”

Declan’s glare was hardly subtle. Grudgingly, Ronan agreed.

They barely took a few steps when Lady Orla wrapped her arms around his, and for a moment, all Ronan could smell was jasmine. Before he could argue, she said, “You do not wish to be married, do you?” When Ronan did not answer, she gave a small shrug and continued, “You need not fret. I do not wish to be married either. Though, I must say that I have heard the most curious things about you, Lord Lynch.”

Ronan froze at that, but Lady Orla tugged him forward with surprising strength, “Do not stop now. We are being watched. We do not want them to think that this is not going well.”

The words came out of Ronan bitter and furious, “What have you heard?”

Lady Orla answered, “That you have magic in you, which does nothing to trouble me. I am fairly talented in it myself.” However, the way she tilted her head did nothing to ease Ronan. True to form, she continued, “And I am certain that a _bride_ is the last thing you are looking for.”

It took every bit of Ronan’s effort not to rip his arm out of her clutch. “But you need one,” Lady Orla added, “Just the way I need a husband.”

Ronan tried to mask his surprise, “What is it you want?”

Lady Orla smiled at him, “Women can never hold our own lands or fortune, Lord Lynch. No prophecy can change that. Marriage is a common expectation and I will have it to my own advantage if nothing else. What I can say is that I can give you your freedom, so long as you guard my riches as if they are your own. I need to trust that you would make investments for me under your name, but never lay a finger on a single coin.”

Undeniably, the proposal edged its way into Ronan’s heart. Yet, he could not help but ask, “Are you like this with everyone?”

Lady Orla gave an exaggerated sigh, “I have never been fond of that word- _like_. I like ribbons, silk, pearls, satin dresses, land and gold. I also like nice things, so it would do you well if you were nice to me.”

The corners of Ronan’s mouth twisted upward reluctantly, “Are men things now?”

“I would like to think so,” she replied pleasantly, “After all, I am no more than a thing to be bartered off because I am a woman.”

Ronan would never admit it, but he was starting to feel a certain admiration for the petite figure at his side. Out of sheer stubbornness, he said, “You speak as though I have already agreed.”

“You have not,” Lady Orla agreed cheerfully, “But this has been a very promising start, has it not?”

In that moment, Ronan felt a certain regret that his indecision would no longer be a source of Declan’s grief.

 

* * *

 

Adam was pulling on his shirt when he heard the quiet voice next to him, “Are you not staying the night?”

He did not look at Ronan when he answered, “I should not be here.” Adam knew that was true, but somehow, there he was anyway.

He heard Ronan shift on the bed, and he tried to ignore every instinct that told him to run. Then, Ronan asked, “Is this about Orla?”

The sound of her name coming out of Ronan’s mouth felt like a stab at Adam’s gut. Yet, he kept a cool exterior and made himself turn to meet the other boy’s eyes, “This is not about anything,” and because he could not help himself, he added, “You made up your mind, and this is me making mine.”

Ronan immediately understood that Adam was still feeling sore about his decision to marry, and he knew there was nothing he could do to salvage the hurt he had inflicted. “I love you,” he told anyway, even though those words did not come easy to him.

Adam laughed bitterly, a heartbroken sound, “Don’t be cruel.” Then, he asked, “When do you plan to propose? Right after I have been in your bed? Is that it?”

Ronan tried to keep his own anger at bay, “I told you about her proposition. We can be together. Nothing will have to change.”

Embarrassed by the way his eyes stung with tears, Adam pressed his hands over them in effort to hide from Ronan’s gaze. He was glad his voice did not break when he said, “Of course things would change.”

Taking in the tired boy before him, Ronan felt the urge to burn something, but he turned it into a soft kiss to Adam’s shoulder instead. “Don’t leave me,” Ronan told him in the barest whisper.

Adam tried to speak but all that came out was a sob. He swallowed hard and tried again, “How can I when you have already left me?” His heart made everything a knife and a sharp twist. Adam knew Ronan was whispering comfort and empty promises in his ear, but all he could hear was his own mind repeating the same words that cut like broken glass.

_God. Oh, God. Please, if there is a God…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. This past week has been crazy for me, but there should only be one or two parts left. I've got all the scenes planned out and I am determined to finish this within the week!


	4. Sing Me Like a Choir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sweetness of everything was hard to ignore, and Adam could not help but think that it may very well be the end of him.
> 
> Perhaps that would not be so terrible.

Ronan knew he could not avoid the impending confrontation forever. While he was usually one to crave a good fight, he was not quite in the mood for it when Adam’s hollow eyes and Matthew’s disapproving look lingered in his mind terribly.

In order to keep up with appearances, Ronan kept at Lady Orla’s side at court for the shortest amount of time necessary. The smell of jasmine permeating from the dip of her collarbones alone made his head ache, and the only way he could keep himself from making any biting remarks was by shutting his mouth entirely. Thankfully, Orla spoke well enough for the both of them. To everyone else, the signs were obvious- Lord Ronan Lynch had a bride in mind.

It was the moment Ronan decided to make his leave when Lady Blue Sargent swept upon him like the angry hurricane that she was. Dressed in dark mismatched colors, she looked nothing like the gem of a prince’s fiancée that she was supposed to be.

At the sight of her, Ronan could not help but drawl, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Blue hissed, “What is this I hear about you courting my cousin?”

Ronan was unfazed, “Come to welcome me to the family? I suppose it is never too early.”

Blue seemed taken aback, “Do you find this hilarious? What possessed you to do this? _What about Adam?_ ”

Something violent rattled inside him at those words. Before he could make any cutting remarks, a pale figure made it to their corner.

“Now, let’s not make a scene,” Lord Noah Czerny told them genially.

Blue took one look at Noah and shook her head, “I do not understand,” she shifted her gaze to Ronan and continued, “Why are you doing this? Do you have a heart?”

“I am doing it for him,” Ronan shot back. He barely realized that he was shaking until Noah place a hand on his shoulder. Ronan shrugged him off when he noticed the curious stares of others. His voice was low and dangerous as he said, “Not everyone has the luxury of a happily ever after, _my lady_.” He made a pointed emphasis on the last two words.

As Blue widened her eyes, Ronan turned to leave but was held back by her once again. “No, please, don’t go,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. I truly am. Talk to us, Ronan.”

Though Ronan stayed in place, he did not speak, but he did not need to.

“It’s your brother’s plan,” Blue deduced.

His silence was telling enough.

Blue pressed on, “Does Orla know?”

Ronan exhaled heavily when he realized that they were not going to simply let this go, “Orla knows more than anyone thinks.”

There was a heavy pause before Noah said in a strained voice, “Declan cares for you.”

Blue snorted while Ronan shifted his red eyes to the pale figure beside him, “And that is what makes it worse.”

 

* * *

 

Adam’s trip to the South came as a relief to him, so much so that he dragged the journey for much longer than was necessary. Seven days. Seven days away from the loud speculations on Lord Ronan Lynch’s choice of bride.

It was late afternoon when he returned, only to find that the speculations had graduated to near certainty. All everyone spoke about were of the sweet flowers Lord Ronan sent to Lady Orla day after day, along with a prized mare that was to her liking. The whispers turned Adam to stone and his mood darkened further after his tiring ride back to the castle. His hands kept clenching into fists during his tasks and his heart grew ferocious.

The news of future wedding bells turned everyone else heady with the idea of romance. When a girl Adam knew from the kitchens gave him a coy smile and spoke less coyly, an angry part of him wanted to submit to her insistent advances, but alas, he did not.

He could not.

Adam was burning with frustration when he stepped into the healing chamber, only to stop in his tracks when he saw who stood by the window.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Noah gave him a gentle smile.

Adam knew Noah even before he met Ronan. The ghostly pale boy was on his way to the castle when he was attacked and kidnapped. It took three days before he was found – three long days in which his loving family screamed bloody murder – at the edge of the forest by the castle, bleeding profusely from his face, neck and legs. Adam remembered the loud commotion when Noah was brought in. He remembered the way his heart tripped when he touched Noah’s cold body and was frozen by the idea that the boy was dead. Yet, Adam was the one to clean Noah’s wounds under Sir Malory’s commands, spending the next few days in a whirlwind of healing concoctions until those eyes finally opened, remembering nothing at all.

“Strange to be here again,” Noah continued when Adam said nothing. If one looked hard enough, the shadow on his cheek – a permanent bruise from the accident – was difficult to ignore. "Did you bring something back for me from the South?”

Adam dropped the herbs in his hands onto a table nearby and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Noah shifted guiltily, “Can’t a man visit a friend whenever he likes?”

“Not when the friend does not want to be visited,” Adam answered dryly.

Noah stared hard, “Is that truly what you want?”

Those eyes made Adam turn away. He started sorting the herbs as he said, “Tell Ronan I am fine.”

“I will, but he did not send me,” Noah replied. When he saw the way Adam froze, he forged on, “He does not say it, but he is worried. We all are. You were gone for a long time.”

Anger tore in Adam’s chest. His voice was flat as he answered, “I was called to the South, Lord Czerny. My sworn duty to the king is to care for the ley line. I go when I am needed, my lord. That is what I do.”

Noah put on a pained expression, “There is no need for that, Adam. I am not here to argue.” In a softer voice, he continued, “We are friends, are we not? We care for you. All of us.”

Adam’s throat tightened, “There is no need to worry about me.”

Noah’s lips twisted weakly, “He is simply trying to do the right thing- in his own convoluted way.”

“I know,” Adam answered quietly.

“I do not understand the way his head works, and I cannot speak for him, but what we all know for certain is that he is stupid when it comes to you.” Noah was silent for a moment, as though in contemplation, “My only hope is for you two to be kind to each other.”

Adam gave a short laugh, and suddenly wishing to be alone, he asked, “Don’t you have a brothel to go to?”

Noah smiled affably, “Have you not heard? My heart has been captured once more.” Those words were not taken seriously by Adam, not when Noah had more than seven lovers in the past year alone. However, Noah seemed to understand what Adam was truly asking for. Before he stepped past the doorway, he turned around and said, “Talk to him, Adam. He has been waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

Despite what Noah told him, Adam did not go to Ronan- not on the day of his return or the next few days which followed.

His deep yearning for the other boy was overshadowed by his anger at Ronan’s courtship which seemed to be the only thing everyone was interested in talking about. His mood was already sour when he was caught in the hallway by Lord Tad Carruthers who was at the castle on business. Adam endured his request to be shown the way out, despite the unspoken understanding that Lord Tad knew the way as well as he did, and Adam weathered through another one of his proposals. It always went the same way, “You will be my kept man. I do not care that it is wrong before the eyes of God and my family. We will be quiet about it, but I will shower you with riches. I have land. I do not care that your station is far below mine, as long as my affection is met with your gratitude.”

However, this time, a twisted part of Adam wanted to agree simply out of his desire to hurt as much as he had been hurt. The thought alone made him furious with himself. He wished to bring the world clattering down at his feet.

After curtly rejecting the imperious boy once more, Adam stormed off the castle grounds on a horse and rode to Ronan’s estate nearby. He found him in the stables alone.

Ronan had yet to notice his arrival, and Adam was propelled forward by his anger and pure need. He turned Ronan around with one hand, ignored the other boy’s look of confusion, and pressed their lips together.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was biting and every bit as enraged as he was. From where he stood, the world never felt more unfair to him. He did not need to be reminded that he was simply a lowly servant. He did not need to be told that his kind of love was impure, twisted and _just wrong_.

It was his rage that guided his hands to unlace Ronan’s breeches. When he pulled away, Ronan’s eyes were wide, as though he had yet to catch up with what was truly happening. Adam did not think when he got to his knees, but before he could get the expensive clothing out of the way, Ronan pressed a warm hand to his cheek and muttered a single word, “Don’t.”

Everything seemed to shatter.

Adam’s shoulders trembled as he tried to hold his emotions in place, but failed. Still on his knees, he told in a rough voice, “I’m sorry.”

It was silent for a long moment before Ronan finally laced up his breeches and moved to sit next to Adam. “I love you,” he said, and before Adam could interject, he continued, “You won’t say it back. I know you won’t, but it does not make it any less true.”

It took no small amount of courage for Adam to meet the other boy’s gaze. “I cannot say it,” he answered quietly, “But of course I do.”

Those words had Ronan shifting forward, meeting Adam’s bowed head with his lips. The sweetness of everything was hard to ignore, and Adam could not help but think that it may very well be the end of him.

Perhaps that would not be so terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You cannot believe how stressed I am over finishing this. I don't even know whether you guys actually like reading this. Oh well, better to finish what I have already started.


	5. A Phoenix in the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing felt clearer to Adam then.

It was Sir Malory who told Adam that he was needed on the plain. Though he tried to hide it, the order filled him with dread. It was a common place for the nobles to gather especially on such a fine day, and Adam very well knew that they were in fact gathered to celebrate the coming union of the beloved prince of Henrietta and the honorable Lady Blue Sargent. As he took his leave, he was met with jealous looks and scorn of the other servants. If only he could, he would willingly trade places with them just so he did not have to leave.

The moment Adam stepped outside, the sun was in his eyes. More so than ever, his body was in tune with Cabeswater. It sang in his blood, and the grass seemed to curl around his feet before finally letting him go. He could not help but think that if he decided to lie down, the earth would swallow him whole. The call only grew louder as Adam made his way forward, and he had to force himself to take hold of reality.

He was Adam Parrish. He was flesh and bone. He was what was real.

The whispers finally hushed when Adam caught sight of Gansey who was watching his approach with a smile on his face- a god amongst his own kind. It was hard to ignore the curious stares of others, and Adam could almost hear their thoughts, making his face burn. Perhaps Gansey had good intentions in calling him over to this celebration, but Adam had never felt more belittled than he did in that moment.

Blue and Noah waved at him from afar, and Adam saw Ronan standing close by. Their eyes met before he made himself look away casually, pretending as though his heart was not trying to escape from his chest.

“Your royal highness,” Adam greeted, keeping a careful distance between him and the prince.

Gansey did not care for that. He defied all conventions and wrapped an arm around Adam’s shoulder in a comradely fashion, “Adam! I was afraid Malory would not let you out of his sight.”

The words prickled at Adam. The difference of his place in society from the others seemed more pronounced than ever. Stiffly, he answered, “Sir Malory has always been ever so kind to me, your royal highness.”

Gansey’s smile diminished. Then, very gently, he guided Adam away from the others. When he was certain that no one else could pry into their conversation, Gansey said softly, “Now, it’s just us.”

Unsure of what to say, Adam’s lips curled upward slightly, “Congratulations. I know you have waited for this day for so long.”

With a laugh, Gansey told, “I have. I am ever so lucky. Not simply to be in holy matrimony, but to be with Blue and every single one of you.”

Looking into the distance, Adam said quietly, “Well, I am not going anywhere.” The words were rooted into something far deeper than the friendship between the two young men.

Clearing his throat, Gansey asked, “I heard you have been called to the South again.”

After a short moment of deliberation, Adam finally answered, “The ley line has been temperamental. It is weak when it should not be. It is Greenmantle. I know it.”

Gansey sighed at the mention of the name, “Adam-”

“No,” Adam cut off whatever was going to be said, “Do not start with me. Believe whatever you want, but it will not be long before he makes a move. We must be prepared.”

Gansey turned frustrated, “Of course I believe you. It’s just that I cannot sound the alarm without any kind of evidence. There is _nothing_ that can be done.”

It was no different from what he told Adam every time the subject was brought up. Yet, the bitterness that washed over Adam still took him by surprise. Pushing it down with all his might, Adam simply replied, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Gansey answered. Then, with a sigh, he continued, “Do you wish to talk about the mess Ronan has gotten himself into?”

Adam shook his head, “I’d rather not.” In fact, that was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Shifting his gaze elsewhere, his attention was caught by a gray horse that trotted around nervously.

Following Adam’s line of sight, Gansey said, “Ah, yes. A gift from Ronan to Orla. Unfortunately, it seems to be in a foul mood today.”

However, Adam knew it was more than that. “I will take care of it,” he told, and took off before Gansey could reply. With a task in mind, Adam could let himself forget the blatant stares of others.

Before he reached the whinnying horse, Adam stopped in his tracks to greet a dark mare. It pressed its nose against his palm, and he could not help the smile making its way across his lips. “Hello, Chainsaw,” he whispered. He did not have to look to know that Ronan was watching him.

When Adam turned back to the gray horse, Chainsaw followed him before snorting haughtily and trotting off. Such a reaction may seem like a mystery to others, but it was clear to Adam. To a dream thing, those that came from reality were the ones that did not belong. Chainsaw did not think that the gray mare was worthy of her attention, but on the contrary, Cabeswater seemed to be paying too much mind to the nervous creature, creeping and taunting it in a mischievous manner.

It took quite a bit of effort, but Adam finally caught the horse in his hands. “Shhh,” he whispered when it threatened to balk. _Go away_ , he told Cabeswater with his eyes closed. When he sensed its reluctance, Adam added more empathetically, _Leave_.

It finally did.

Adam was so absorbed in his task that he did not realize that someone had moved to stand next to him until he opened his eyes and saw Lady Orla looking at him as though she was awaiting a reply. Adam felt his chest tighten as he shifted and said, “Sorry, my lady. I cannot hear from my left.”

Lady Orla turned apologetic, “I did not know. I simply came to thank you.” She placed a hand on her horse and added, “She is not usually like this, but this is not the kind of magic I deal with.”

Adam swallowed. He should not be surprised that Lady Orla knew magic herself. There did not seem to be a single fault in her.

 _A perfect bride_ , his mind supplied cruelly.

Suddenly, Lady Orla leaned in conspicuously and asked, “Shall I ask after your health and laugh in a friendly manner?”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows, “My lady?”

Lady Orla smiled, “It will do us good to appear as friends if you are to be at the estate regularly after Ronan and I are married. Though, I would not mind if we would genuinely become friends.” She pressed on when Adam did not answer, “These people are easy to fool, and my gift allows me to decipher what they are going to say before they actually do. It makes it simple to please them. Although it is nothing compared to your talent, it helps.”

Adam laughed self-consciously, “I’m afraid you have been mistaken, my lady. My gift is rather worthless.”

Lifting her head, Lady Orla told, “I do not judge something’s worth from the eyes of others.”

In that moment, Adam understood why Ronan had chosen her. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with his emotions, and a large part of him wanted to thank her for giving them a chance at happiness, no matter how small it was. He tried but could not find the right way to say it.

Lady Orla simply smiled knowingly. She lifted her hand and Adam caught the scent of jasmine, “Now, give me a kiss, and I will be off.”

Of course, Adam did as he was told.

 

* * *

 

Tracing the dark mark over Ronan’s back - the handprint of Cabeswater - Adam could no longer ignore the tension in the other boy’s shoulders. Very quietly, so as to not disrupt the peaceful quality of the night, he asked, “What troubles you?”

Ronan exhaled heavily but moved closer to Adam on the bed, “I have not been able to dream.”

Adam’s finger stopped in motion, making Ronan turn so he could look at him, “Is that so?”

Ronan answered in a matter-of-fact manner, “You think it is Greenmantle.”

Adam told, “Of course I do.”

“He’s coming,” Ronan said tightly.

Pressing his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder, Adam replied, “And I will stay and fight.”

Ronan laughed dryly, “Not that you have a choice. You are sworn to this place.”

Adam looked at the other boy with a small frown on his face, “My duty is to the ley line. That ends when it no longer has any need of me, or when it ceases to exist. It is my oath to Gansey as his sworn companion that ties me to this place as long as I breathe.”

Ronan was quiet before he said, “He will let you go if only you asked.”

Adam made a tired sound, “He is like a brother to me.” Then, he added, “Besides, you do not know for certain. After all, Gansey prefers to have all his things where he can find them.” Ronan hummed but did not say anything else, so Adam closed his eyes and muttered darkly, “You would never leave this place either, even without an oath.”

Brushing his fingertips over the nape of Adam’s neck, Ronan answered, “Part of me will always be here at home, but-” He breathed out sharply before he continued, “I realized a long time ago that my place is with you.”

At that, Adam’s eyes flew open. Ronan’s cheeks were flushed in the candlelight, but it was Adam’s knees that felt weak. With all that was happening, he had been wondering whether his wants truly matched what he needed. In the rare times when Adam’s pride was quiet, everything he was working for did not seem as important anymore. He needed Ronan, that much was true, and he knew if he could finally let the reins go, the prospect of happiness would drown the rest of the world.

Adam smiled wryly, “If only things were different.”

Ronan snorted. There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again, “Orla told me about this place called Paris.” He continued when Adam made a questioning noise, “It is far from here, but not as far as one thinks. She told me that men took lovers there. Men… and men. No one thinks it to be strange.”

Adam’s eyes felt heavy under Ronan’s steady heartbeat, “What a place to be.”

Distantly, Adam heard the other boy say, “I just wish-”

The world turned quiet.

 

* * *

 

Sir Greenmantle finally made his move the very day Gansey and Blue were to be married- a day when he could have every significant figure under one roof. Together with Sir Whelk, they found a way to plunge into dreams, stealing from the ley line, weakening its magic. Things happened bloody and fast. It was the act of a man careful, eager, and fearless.

Everything as they knew it to be was dying.

By midday, the king was wounded, and half the army was injured or dead. Whoever was left retreated into the forest, hoping to hide until safety was finally made possible.

With his back against an old tree, Gansey coughed terribly as Blue wept beside him. Noah looked as though he did not know what to do with himself. Swiftly, Adam got to his knees and pulled open Gansey’s shirt. To his relief, he found the ribs bruised instead of broken.

“You’ll be alright,” Adam told them reverently, barely feeling Ronan’s hand on his arm.

Then, there came a buzzing that grew steadily louder. As someone screamed, Adam turned and saw an influx of hornets heading their way. A rumble followed, and the ground began to crack, the lines drawing closer and closer to them.

Adam could see the fear in everyone’s eyes. They were going to die.

Then, Adam felt a soft call, and he knew there was something he had to try. Pushing every other noise out of his head, he placed a palm against the tree that Gansey was leaning on, and reached deep inside him. With his eyes shut, he felt the weak presence of Cabeswater swimming away from him, but he ignored the strain and stretched for it. When he finally had a firm hold, his mind all but commanded: _Move_.

Suddenly, the world turned to rain.

Adam opened his eyes to the sound of laughter. Looking around, he realized that he had done it. He had moved the part of the forest that Gansey and his people were in to a hidden part of Cabeswater. The first person Adam turned to was Ronan who was staring at him with a strange look on his face. It took a while for Adam to understand that it was pride.

The fight was not over, but Gansey only needed to call for reinforcements from the neighboring countries, and they will win the war.  Nothing felt clearer to Adam then. Tearing his eyes away from Ronan, he knelt down next to his prince and said, “The first day I stepped into the castle, I swore loyalty to you, but it has always been more than that. You are my brother, and you always will be. You will always have me, but I ask for you to let me go.”

Gansey’s eyes were wet and no one else dared to move. Then, Ronan got on his knees next to Adam and held his hand. He did not speak.

Finally, Gansey reached for them both and told, “Go. Be free and be happy.”

Those words seemed to set everything in motion. With a kiss from Blue and an embrace from Noah, Adam and Ronan took two horses in the midst of all the commotion. The rain sounded like an applause as the two boys shared a lingering kiss, and off they went.

 

* * *

 

The letter arrived one bright afternoon. The young man with the elegant hands sliced it open and tried not to smile when he felt soft lips on his neck, but he did not ask for it to stop.

On a fine piece of parchment that smelled distinctly of jasmine, there were only a few words written in a prince’s script: Être gentil à l'autre.

_Be kind to each other._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally done! I seriously hope I got the French right. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words. I did not mean to whine the last chapter. I would reply each one of you individually, but I feel like my head is about to explode.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are looking for historical accuracies, this fic is not the place to find them. 
> 
> This is the toughest thing I have ever written, and it looks like it's going to be much longer than I thought.
> 
> All titles are from Troye Sivan's Bite.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://yourladysansa.tumblr.com).


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